


There will be tomorrow

by Artemaesia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, No Incest, No Smut, just a bunch of stuff i wrote on the train lol, slight mention of their parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 02:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11152614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemaesia/pseuds/Artemaesia
Summary: Hanzo watches his brother leave for good.





	There will be tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up tho, I've not written fics in years. Legit years. :v (awkward laugh and sits in corner twiddling thumbs)

He remembered spring rather vaguely, as they stood across from each other along the train tracks, the wind picking up fallen petals around them and the folds of their robes, filtering through their hair as a sad smile made its way onto his brother's face.

 

_I will be back_

 

Lies. He thought bitterly, returning the smile, his hand brushes away the stray strands of hair on his face, as he turned, watching, as the train slowly approaches in the distance, together with a feeling of dread.

 

_Hanzo._

 

He looks back towards his brother, desperately memorising his worried expression, how his brother almost let go of his luggage, how he almost seemed to regret making the decision to leave. His eyes traced the outlines of the man before him, long grown from the boy he once was, no longer the messy eater, no longer climbing trees to jump into their pond of koi fishes, the mischievous screaming child sprinting along the corridors of their home and knocking every unfortunate person and cat out of the way. His brother's eyes were glistening now, as if seeking an unnecessary approval from him, his faint smile slowly disappearing behind biting lips, as his head gradually dips lower, unconscious tears, then blurring vision. The petals that whizzed past seemed to contort into a pastel mess, then becoming clear again as the winds lifts the moisture off his eyes.

 

If time could be reversed, he mused, he would never want to see Genji grow up, so that he could forever remain that little boy who was genuinely happy, perhaps even in time, truly loved by their elders and relatives for who he is, not scrutinised for every minute mistake made.

 

If only Hanzo could take every bad memory away just so Genji could be who he was, back to that young curious boy, when their mother would read them stories of ancient dragons while braiding Hanzo's hair, laughing when Genji dramatically pretended to be a dragon struck down by his brother. He had gleefully laughed along too, throwing a nearby pillow as his weapon of choice, indulging his brother he had once loved so dearly, and still do. When his usually strict father walked in on the commotion, uncharacteristically with a stick of yakitori in between his teeth, making them snort and cackle even louder. Hanzo missed the days where they could simply be children, long before the clan became their father's priority, before his mother's untimely death, bringing along a series of chaos into the house, and finally leading up to his father's demise.

 

He remembered attending both wakes. Unemotional, the elders had labelled him, next to the young Genji, who bawled uncontrollably into his arms. As they stood over the casket that held his parents, he offered nothing more than flowers on both counts. Genji, however, a wailing mess, a disgrace in their elders' eyes, screaming hysterics about how they left him behind, how he bawled and promised that he would never misbehave again. He had to be strong for Genji, for their parents, and even at his young age, the tears just would not come. Instead, the emptiness in his heart grew, barely enough space to fit another besides his brother. Hanzo then grew into nothing more than an empty shell, perfecting his duties, training to be the perfect clan heir.

 

_Be safe... Genji._

 

Hanzo's voice had quivered, betraying his will not to break, the memories now playing like a broken record, repeatedly in his mind, haunting him to his very soul, as the train slowed to a halt and the announcer began the usual well-rehearsed lines.

 

_Hanamura, Minamioguni-machi, please alight for visitation to the Shimada Castle, local arcade 16-Bit Hero, and light refreshments at Rikimaru Ramen. Hanamura, please mind the platform gap._

 

Genji had opened his mouth in a last attempt, but held it there and then pursed his lips again, uncertainty rooting him on the spot. Maybe it was too late for convincing, too late to patch things back together. The mistakes he made were nothing compared to the one he was about to make now, he clenched his fist tighter on the luggage handle, willing himself to hold together. How it almost kills him being so far away, yet within a short distance, jumping the barrier would take him back to the place he once called his home.

 

Genji watches his brother, seemingly struggling to find the right words to say, if there was even a 'right' thing to do in their current stance. He remembers Hanzo, before he took things into his hands, before the fall of the empire.

 

And he missed him.

 

Genji craved for attention he once had, without any requirement, without qualms or restraint, he craved for Hanzo to tend to him like he used to whenever Genji fell, scraping both knees. He imagines the same gentle hands picking him up, dusting him off, and he looks expectantly at the brother before him, wishing he would do it once more. What he would give to run into those open waiting arms again.

 

The one time he pleaded and begged for Hanzo's forgiveness, a little too late, when he got caught on a frivolous pursuit, when she turned against him after getting necessary intel, grazing his throat with a hand-made ice pick. Hanzo stopped talking to him for weeks after that, mostly getting into trouble with his elders for his unrestrained brother, yet not knowing how to handle Genji when he, a Shimada, almost perished at the hands of some cheap whore. The scar was still faint on Genji's delicate neck, bobbing along whenever he ate, and Hanzo would try and avoid staring too much, but it wounded deeply.

 

Eventually Genji caved, barely turning up for meals, skipping out on training, even the brothels and arcade had been left out of their favourite customer. Instead, Genji hid in bed for days, only moving for necessary trips to the bathroom, he was ashamed to say the least, having thrown his family's name into the dirt, and cast aside by the only person he could count on for anything.

 

_Genji, it's time._

 

He catches the faint signs of pain as Genji snapped out of his thoughts, sheepishly flashing an awkward smile, trying to clamp down on the heartache threatening to consume him. Beside him, the station master looks on with little interest, instead checking his watch, then eyeing a stray cat making its way to rest under the station bench.

 

_Hanamura, Minamioguni-machi, this train will be departing shortly, all passengers please board now._

 

With a light wave, Hanzo notices Genji wiping his eyes, already red and slightly swelling, as he carried his luggage and makes his way to the waiting train. He silently watched as the train engine cranks and starts to leave the platform, the chime signalling the last time he would ever see his brother again, until he came back, as the tears that had slowly pooled at the sides of his eyes fell onto his sleeves. He would never let his brother see him cry, but he thinks maybe it would have made Genji hesitate, made Genji throw everything aside and come running back, made him stay, made it known that he still had a heart beating just for his little brother.

 

As the scenery outside of the window gradually moved away from Hanamura, the famous pink petals rushing past his cabin, Genji chokes on his tears, holding his luggage close to his chest until his ribs hurt, and hastily buries his head when the floodgates burst wide open. His home will now become a part of his past, a place he had no intention of returning to, a brother he could only miss, holding him close in his memories, telling him wonderful stories in his dreams. Up to that final moment where he almost tells his brother the truth, where his heart clenched inside him, the words of confession that refused to leave his nervous lips.

 

_I'm sorry, Hanzo..._

 

Even after the train was long gone, Hanzo stood at the sides of the tracks, already missing his brother dearly, a sinking feeling burning in the depths of his gut, the pain in his chest imploding, crushing, until there was nothing more than a dull throb clawing at him. His eyes were dry by then, but just as red and swollen as his brother, Genji.

 

_I would just hold him back, be in the way._

 

The exact thoughts both brothers had, yet what was holding them back was mere pride, the fear of committing into something that would utterly ruin everything they had painstakingly built for almost their entire years of existence. The empire passed down to their generation, into their unwilling hands, forced upon their name, responsibilities that burdened their lithe shoulders.

 

With all his words left unsaid, Hanzo could only blame himself for making the choice of letting Genji go. There were things that would need time to work out, perhaps they could even hold the empire together, without the watchful eyes of the elders. But for now, as his brother makes his way into a brighter future, Hanzo turns and takes painful steps, back into the place he once called home, back to an empty estate void of his brother's laughter, his warm smiles, hearing his noisy footsteps in the middle of the night and raking the fridge, and alas, his cheerful greetings of 'welcome home, anija!'

 

_It would never truly be home without you, Genji._

 


End file.
